Teenage Kicks
by AwesomeDragons
Summary: No one is born old. Not even Avallac'h the Aen Saevherne, Eredin the King of the Wild Hunt or Lara, daughter of Shiadhal. They've been rebels, youngsters, adolescents with the expectations of their society weighting on their shoulders. So how did they manage, growing in a place which was already doomed and decided for them? Read and find out.
_I like the idea of a youngster Aen Elle group. They had to be up to something, while the Aen Seidhe teens were joining Scoia'tael, didn't they?_

 _And if someone is confused, Crevan is Avallac'h's first name, so. Yeah._

* * *

Avallac'h set his fist flying towards the other elf. It was vulgar, tasteless and pitiful, but it was at the moment something he truly thought he needed to do. It wasn't a good punch, sent from too high and aimed too low. It didn't land, of course, it was easy to dodge by simply stepping aside. But he did receive a balance-shifting push on his back, launching him to fall face-first on the marbled ground. He tried to soften the impact with his hands, but it only made him scared that he'll broke his wrist. He was too proud to let any of the pain show, laying on the floor, turning his face from Eredin's sight. He heard the words.

"You're just pathetic."

He inspected that the wrist hadn't been broken, as he could raise himself with its aid. And even if it was aching like no other, it didn't hurt enough to have any serious damage. His pride took the biggest hit.

"You low-birth," Avallac'h hissed out the words, "your father probably fucked slaves rather than your mother."

His impatient words gained him a sharp kick to his ribs, far worse than the wrist, throwing him back to the ground. He knew he had crossed a subtle line there. But it pleased him to no end to see Eredin so furious, clearly at an insult that had hit a sensitive spot. It cost him to spat a tiny bit of blood from biting his tongue, as he tried to catch his breath. But he smirked at the middle of it.

"No matter how hard you kick," he continued, voice husky from the assault, "it won't change your life." His survival instincts screamed for him to shut up. "You'll always be _nothing_."

"I'll be enough to kick your ass." Eredin's words shook with anger, "you little bitch."

The male elves were in the shadows of a building. A white, graceful structure with pillars and slender towers, in which they received their tutoring. Their lessons had already ended for the day, and again they had crashed involuntarily, by a coincidence, but neither wanting to be the first to back away. It was more a fight for power than anything else. Their roles in the surrounding society were becoming brutally clear, as they were in the gates of maturity. Just as the inevitable doom of their world, the white frost, lurked a mere two hundred years away.

It had become obvious in the last couple of years, that the blond elf had a talent for numbers and reasoning. He had an exceptional thirst for knowledge and it had been decided that he was fit for a research career, to ultimately become Aen Saevherne. With his heritage, from his mother and father, he was carrying a gene, recessive one, and he was there for a favorable to continue the sacred bloodline. It was a new invention from the current Knowing Ones. Or at least now it had become clear how to use it to their advantage.

It had started with Shiadhal's grand grandparents, and it went back over a thousand years. The famous Elder blood had come from two special individuals, who had twins, both girls. The siblings eventually married, and one of the sisters had a child, Shiadhal's mother. The other sister had two, the young king Auberon, and his sister. It was the last time anyone remembered a family having more than one child. Auberon's sister had a daughter, who was Avallac'h's mother. A year after the sage-in-training was born, the ancient Knowing Ones had decided that Auberon should wed Shiadhal, and reproduce. Shiadhal had given birth to a daughter, which they named Lara Dorren. When it became public knowledge that their child was a girl, it was celebrated that she'd be Avallac'h's bride. So, with a male recessive gene, and Lara's own dominant one, it was almost certain that their child would have the power to bent and control the particles of space and time. And not a century too early. They'd make a child that could use her powers to move the Aen Elle race from this dying planet.

So Avallac'h, as well as Lara, was held high in the upcoming Aen Elle hierarchy, because they would be one day be the parents of their savior. If they'd been any other race but the ageless elves, they'd probably had been already thrown into a bedroom three years ago, at an age considered the earliest at child making. Marriage or no marriage. But, classically, Alders lived by the assumption that time was nothing. So even if their world was to be destroyed in a couple of hundred years or so, there was no rush. Because what was couple of years compared to their lifespan? Avallac'h and Lara had both been given the luxury of studying, growing and making themselves useful before the decided time of the wedding.

As for Eredin, things were not looking as bright. He was literally nothing. His father had been an enormous soldier, his mother a simple, not really comely, servant. He wasn't a second class citizen, he was third to fourth class, just above dh'oine slaves they've started to train. He was probably living the best time of his live, because he was a fertile young elf. They were always cherished, for their numbers had been sinking for the last three hundred years. But when he'd mature enough, he would cease to be much more than a common foot soldier. Or by a long-shot a commander, if he'd show notable military talent.

That was what probably kept Eredin from kicking this blond elf further. It would not achieve him anything more than mere momentarily satisfaction. Avallac'h guessed he'd love to see the shorter elf beaten bloody, put to his place by people who weren't considered _special_. The black haired elf was far more agile in the physical way, slightly bigger and a half-a-head taller, with more muscles and strength. But that wouldn't help if he'd got into trouble for teaching their promised boy a well-earned lesson.

What annoyed Avallac'h to no end, was that besides him being smarter, more adequate and superior, Eredin was undeniably more popular. And he, contrary to Crevan himself, had the right to choose his life.

Even if there was only a fraction of youths as there were adults, it was enough for them to create their own surrounding code of conduct. The black-haired male got along almost with every teen there was, and he had a wicked sense of humor with outrageous ideas. And even if their culture was mostly a tranquil and sophisticated one, it was known for the young ones to rebel. To know one, was to know the other.

While Crevan was considered to be beautiful, with his slender and portioned building, high cheekbones, snowy eyes and silver hair, Eredin was measured to be breathtakingly stunning. His hair was a good way over his shoulders, with the color of coal. On the contrary to Avallach's own neutral blue robes, the other elf wore light armor under his red jacket, which stood out, when everything else he wore was dark. Even though the blond didn't shook away from physical activity, he couldn't match the other's brawny figure. In a matter of fact, Avallac'h was surprised if Eredin hadn't put a baby in any she-elf's belly already. He hated the thought, that even if he was respected, this elf was _liked_.

So the two young elves would clash once in a while. The grown-ups generally looked the other way, letting them settle their own fights. And because of the civilized way of living, they were expected to do it privately, not pulling any unneeded elves or actions into it. They were let to live freely, but undoubtedly demanded in the end to be useful for the Aen Elle race. That was the force driving them, because if you didn't make yourself useful, you weren't needed. Everybody wanted to be beneficial, appreciated and valuable for their skills, and a desirable part of their future.

So as there were no second kick from Eredin's steel reinforced boots, Avallac'h decided he could get back onto his feet. This was the first time it had come to physical blows, and he was furious and ashamed that the taller elf had tricked him to lose his usually-cool temper. For what it was worth, it had taken some masterfully crafted insults about the blonde's chosen career path, to spiteful comment about his parent's relationship, to a filthy suggestion of him not being able to consummate his to-be marriage. So he had tried to strike Eredin. With no thought to how to do it magically or better, with only words. He gave the other elf a nasty look, as he got up.

"You got no leverage what-so-ever to talk about mothers."

It was a warning rather than an insult. And Eredin knew it.

"So shall we talk of Lara instead? And your hopeless crush?"

Avallac'h had to compose himself, not let all of his anger show in his response. He acted to be more interested with rubbing his throbbing wrist, like he ignored the pain on his side, than meeting the elf's eyes.

"If you want to. Thought the subject could be extended to both participants."

They were being incredibly immature, and they both knew it. But it was something they couldn't control when they pushed each other's buttons. The elves who'd already reached adulthood, probably thought they'll grow out of it.

"I think the fall must've confused you." Eredin's eyes glistened viciously, "Or the remarkable skillful punch you threw there. But I got no desires about her."

"Then maybe you should shut your mouth about the matter."

"You got me all wrong, _knowing one_." he mocked, "I'm just trying to help. You know making a little elf can be challenging, and with no experience at all…"

Avallac'h wished that he could make Eredin's head explode.

"Really? So what stable _dh'oine_ would you recommend? I've heard you've made an impressive job making sure their bloodline will continue." It was a low-shot. "Did you prefer them, or did you fail to slither your way into someone's bedroom and thought it was close enough?"

The blond was faster this time. Before Eredin could hit him with a punch aimed at his jaw, he shaped a magical barrier in the middle of them. His opponent's knuckles met with the blockade, and he was thrown aback. For Avallac'h's displeasure, Eredin managed to keep his balance.

"Scared I'll beat you?" The dark-haired elf nearly shouted.

"Fuck off."

Avallac'h turned to leave. He was sure enough that Eredin wouldn't follow or try to attack him from behind. There was no end to this exchange of offences, and it was already getting dim. As their days studying were normally long, it was incomprehensible why he continued to use his free-time like this. It was earning him nothing, but the small sensation from getting to speak so cruelly. He'd be better off altogether, and Avallac'h made a mental promise to try, and make himself ignore the youngster from now on.

" _Va faill_ , mighty Sage!" The blond couldn't see it, but Eredin made an elegant bow to his back.

* * *

The city was gorgeous. The elves took a special care to make sure their capital was as exquisite as the Alders living inside. There had been no sparing of snowy marble, vivid stone and dazzling glass. Colors were used cautiously, and they adorned the very special parts of houses, as patterns and jewelling. It was a pity they could not take with them a city so marvelous, when they finally organized the moving to another planet. There was not a singular building to stand out, and they all had been designed in the same way. It was a wave of structures, each prettier than the next one. Avallac'h had travelled to the other cities, as rare as they've become, but they lacked the spiral and round elements, pillars and hallways that the capital hold.

He undercrossed a vault to a market place. It was midway from their institute, in the center of the city, to his very own house and laboratory. He'd lately taken the initiative of the shortcut, as in the evening, it wasn't as full with merchants as in day-time. The trading happened under a colossal ceiling, safe from the sun and rain. On the roof, there was pictures of artistic birds and other animals, clouds and trees. Everything an elf could see in a regular forest, for a one they now days had to travel several hours to. For the huge paintwork, it almost felt like he could be in the middle of flush, green woods. He was proud to say he had painted his handwork on there, moderately, a small bird here and a green leaf there. Illegally, of course. At night, without getting caught.

"My partner in crime!"

The familiar call caused a slow, practically non-seeable smile to creep up his face. He knew who it was without looking.

There, sitting on a seat beside the big fountain on the otherwise clear area, was an elf. A she-elf, to be precise. A female with long, braided light hair, and a matching set of moss green eyes. She had freckles faintly over her nose and cheeks. If you'd look closely, in the sun, there'd be a gold glistening in her locks. Flowers were intertwined into her braid, in the same shade as her clothing, white and green. She had closed a book as she howled for him, and Avallac'h had no misunderstandings for her to be just there accidentally. She had been waiting.

"Not so loud! Someone will hear."

She snorted.

"Nobody cares. It's basically a must-do anyway."

"Yes, but the assumption is that you don't get caught."

It was the story of the marketplace. The legend said that one rainy day, a painting of a tree had emerged on the ceiling, and nobody knew who did it. Sooner than they realized, someone had decorated a bunch of grapevines around it. With time it had become a custom, for a practiced painter to add color in the white space. A week ago, they both had managed it, with the other on the lookout as the other held a brush.

He measured her again, his eyes studying every bit of her. It was probably impropriate, how his eyes lingered over her dress, white with green stitching in the shape of blossoms. There was undoubtedly a whole meadow embroidered in it. The fabric was a see-trough, but folded in layers, and it cast the illusion of flowing in the still air. It was a normal, fashionable gown for an elf woman. She was a head shorter than him, an average height for a she-elf. And she was striking. Every elf was born beautiful, and she was surely not an exception.

"You're disheveled." She was making a clear point. "What happened?"

He groaned, as he'd take no pleasure from explaining the details of his and Eredin's little misunderstanding. Except they had both understood each other just well, as they always did.

"It escalated to blows." He thought it was enough, and sat beside her. The water providing a pleasant bubbling sound.

"Please, try not to."

"It doesn't concern you."

She made a piercing look with her eyes.

"Fine. Whatever."

There was silence. She played with her braid and sighed. He investigated the darkening evening for anyone who was out on the streets. There wasn't a lot, of course, because mostly everybody wanted to be with their family or loved ones, or buried themselves to work or art.

"Did you find it?" He broke the stillness with soft words.

"Page 1172." She tossed him the book she had been reading a moment ago.

He snapped his fingers for a small ball to materialize, one with a yellow glow. It beamed enough for him to start looking for the right place.

"Already read it, won't help."

He wanted to believe her, but he had to be certain, to see it for his own eyes. As he flipped through the chapters, he noticed it was illustrated with small pictures and marks. The leather in his hands felt old, and he had to be careful not to rip the ancient paper. It wasn't just the uneven light, but the manuscript also had a yellowish color. He found the page, and started reading. His eyebrows wrinkled, and he read the sheet again. He ran his finger down the most crucial points. But Lara had been right, it didn't help.

"What a load of rubbish."

"I told you."

"Well at least we saw it."

"But the hard part is only ahead. I still have to get it back inside father's library, without him noticing."

He glanced at her carefully. "Need help?"

"About that…"

She wiped her braid over her shoulder, and leaned forward, putting her hands on the stone of the seat. She restrained herself from looking at him. He already guessed he wouldn't like what was coming.

"I'm going to ask Eredin for help." Her voice didn't have the slightest drop of regret.

"Excuse me, but are you trying to get caught?"

"He knows the guards." It was plain and simple.

"Seems like nothing can go wrong there."

"You know what, shut up, Crevan." She rose up, and persisted to face him. "It was my plan, my choices, and I'll finish it how I think best."

"You can't possibly think that that's the best solution." He stood up, taking advantage of all the extra height he had over her.

She avoided his eyes, shifting her weight hastily to her left foot, as they stood there. It was almost completely dark, save from the light his bulb produced. There was no wind, and it was unusually warm for a spring evening.

"Please don't argue with me about this." She hesitated. "I know you're not annoyed about just returning the stupid book. It's about the whole research. Do you hold it against me to try and find an alternative?"

He looked at his feet. It was beyond him why she needed his permission for her research, as she was going to do it without asking anyway. They've been destined to marry from when they were little, no taller than the seat they'd been sitting on. It made him feel like he wasn't enough, that he should try and do something more. Be someone else. But he could not, and he wouldn't dwell on it.

"Do you really need my answer? Because you're just trying to ease your own guilt."

It sounded like she had something stuck in her throat. "Thanks Avallac'h. Knew you'd understand."

She grabbed the book from his hands, and left him without a sound. He felt remorse the second her dress spun around her. Her slippers were so soft that they allowed her to vanish in the darkness, with no indication about her location. He wanted to call after her, but it was pointless. She wouldn't budge and he wouldn't approve. And even if they'd known each other's since toddlers, they've only been friends for a couple of years. And for elves, it was mere seconds. Or so the other's said, comparing to their age, two years was a considerable amount of time. Thought he'd never say it aloud when there was someone older than a hundred years to hear. He'd automatically get a verbal trashing that time was nothing, they shouldn't be impatient and that they did not care about years, or decades. Which he knew was right, deep down in him, but for this moment, he was out of patience.

He made his way to home. His own home, which was orderly, clean and comfortable. He had still reading to do before bed, besides the fact that sunrise was nearer than he'd cared it to be. But it was his job and it was expected from him, so he'd do it. And it prepared him for his future, or so everyone kept telling him. In the back of his mind, he hoped he'd have the time for a bath that could sooth the pain lingering in his side.

* * *

"You want my help?"

She didn't nod. She just stared the boy. "That's what I said, wasn't it?"

"I don't do favors."

"It wouldn't be a favor. It's a debt."

"I have the impression, but do correct me if I'm wrong, a debt needs to be paid."

"Look, I don't have time for this. Will you help me or not?"

"To be paid off when I ask?"

"Yes."

"It's a deal, princess."

She groaned. Eredin was leaning himself against one of the outside pavement's pillars, his horse hastily drinking around the corner. It was clear he'd wanted to ask more questions, torment her why her _boyfriend_ didn't help her, why from all the elves she'd come to him. A lot of inquiries she wouldn't have the slightest of intentions of answering. But the words were there, hanging in the air and he had sufficient himself at that.

She had slipped out from their study in the tower, knowing when the males in military training had their pitiful break. There was no hope that Crevan hadn't noticed it, but he had controlled himself from saying anything, which she was incredibly thankful of. It wasn't a good plan, but it would have to make due, because it was the best from terrible plans. She cursed herself enough for stealing the book in the first place. She took her leave from the tall elf.

"You know, Dorren."

She turned in her heels, near the entrance. Her dress, long and green, twirled at her legs for the sudden stop.

"Glas?"

"I know what you're planning. With the research and all."

It stunned her. She hoped they were empty words, directed to torment and tease, for his own purposes.

"I highly doubt that."

She paced back inside, not bothering to hear any possible feedback. Even if Eredin knew something about what she was striving at, it didn't matter. Nobody would believe him. Because why should they? She was Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal, the mother-to-be to this remarkable child, who would rescue them. She had been raised to know this. She was in Aen Saevherne training mainly for that sole purpose, for their liberator to not be born to ignorant parents. When Avallac'h was praised for his intelligence and had earned his place, she was glorified for her ability to bear children. Why in the world she would want anything more?

She was pissed. As she climbed the stairs back to their shared study and library, she knocked over a decorative plant with her hand.

Crevan and their matrimony was a delicate subject for her. She tried not to think of it at all. Because even though she cared for Avallac'h, even found him physically appealing, there was something in her that screamed for something different.

There had been times she had prayed for the elf to act. To get her with child so they all could be done with it. But Avallac'h was an honorable man, and he wouldn't lay with her if she truly didn't wish for it. This had resulted in her deep respect for the elf, and the start for their friendship. She had explained him her depression triggering from the fact that her biggest contribution was to let a male elf, even if it was someone as lovely as Crevan, to climb on top of her. That if they'd let her, she could do _so much more_.

So she had forged a plan and shared it with him.

It was better, it didn't hang on the possibilities, but action. It had a real shot, but it was evident that nobody would follow her if she'd tell them. She had decided to make it come true on her own. Example number one, Crevan had told her right on the beginning that she practically had no chances. He had used the word 'impossible'. But he had aided her when she asked him to. They had gone through most of the useful books in their library, until it became apparent that it wouldn't do them any good. It was then that she had snuck to the King's, her father's, personal library and snatched the one book she thought had potential. But was provided to be a dead end. Because she couldn't risk that Auberon got any hint on her plan, she should return the book. In all discreet she could muster.

The door was in front of her. She pressed it open with one slender thrust.

Their scholarship took place in a room full of light. There were no windows, but the walls were made of flawless glass. Bookshelves were as high as the ceiling was, and they used all the space except a long, round table. They'd sit around it, reading, writing and sketching. Lara and Avallac'h were mostly alone, left with their own tasks, but time to time their professor would appear. They've never dared to ask, but they predicted he was the oldest elf living. His hair was the color of clouds, and his skin was fine. Progressively the Alders showed no age, but he had wrinkles on the corners of his eyes.

She fell to a deep, smooth curtsy as soon as her teacher glimpsed the sight of her. She had no idea how or when he'd got here, because when she had left, there was just a grumpy Crevan, reading.

"Excuse me, Aen Saevherne. I had to see a friend." He'd knew if she'd lie. They always did.

He raised his brow. "I was not aware that the young _Dearg Ruadhri_ was your friend."

She answered in her most innocent voice. "Eredin is a friend of everyone's, sir."

He waved his hand. "Well it doesn't matter now, does it? Take a seat, girl."

She swiftly moved to sit alongside Crevan. He gave her a blaming look, and she shrugged her shoulders. They had continued their argument right away when they had reached the tower in that morning, both still holding their side of the fight. It hadn't helped that she had buried herself behind a bookshelf long enough to announce she'll be back in a moment.

"I presume you have the papers I ordered you."

They've had written a long, boring, description with matching images about solar systems and how they functioned. She saw, leaning back on her chair, that Avallac'h's drawings were a way neater than hers. But she didn't guilt herself, as it was not a subject that she really cared about at all. They've been in the middle of a very mathematical period, with estimations about space and time, without forgetting studies about chemistry and biology. He'd practically not shut up about the matters even when they'd get some free time.

She was more into political issues, and while physics were never her strong side, she had no trouble over calculating the speed of inflation or essence of financial structures. Her father had been proud of her interest. But she bested Crevan only in homework if she stayed up nights, even if she thought it was her strong suite. Avallac'h knew this, but didn't cut her any slack. But he did help, if asked.

The Aen Saevherne glanced down on her drawings intensively as she lay them to the table. Then he rustled Avallac'h's paper, lifting it up a little.

"It's not bad. But my dear pupils, you should have noticed…"

She swore it was the longest three hours she had ever spent in the room.

The evening re-writing the maps proved to be even more troublesome.

* * *

Eredin's horse neighed, as he forcefully pulled on the reins. The deep-grey mare was foaming slightly, and he pressed down the worry he had ridden her too fast. It had to get used to it, if the animal was ever to be something.

Today, they had first made a five mile ride, then a five mile run with full armor and leading the ride, and finally a five mile ride again. After the composed 15 miles they had a pause to drink the horses, and then the exercise was repeated. He was glad they'd made the city again with the last light, because they would have to put their horses away themselves, and brush them. He didn't see the meaning behind this, as they had no current shortage of dh'oine slaves. But he was the first to finish, as usual. He rode the animal promptly, guiding it with his knees as well, as he entered the courtyard.

The stables were white from the outside, but as he marked for what felt for like the millionth time, inside they were wooden, with brown and red stone. He unmounted, and led the mare to her corral, and tied her reins when he proceeded to take the saddle off. He was in the middle of grooming the animal, as he heard steps.

He grinned at the elf entering the stables. "Second. Not bad."

The white-haired youth laughed for a response, as he led his dotted gelding. He shortly patted the steed on its neck, and it rubbed its muzzle against him. "Picasso's a good boy, hardly tires. It was more of his doing, than mine."

"You're not giving yourself enough credit."

It was not a lie. Eredin had beaten Ge'els by far today, but the elf was talented. And besides his closest comrade. They had trained together, laughed together and shared a drink on more occasion than one. They've done things like sneaked to the bathhouse together, on a solitary purpose to get a glimpse from she-elves getting dressed or undressed.

They both wore similar attire. Heavy armor, but no weapons.

"How's Sleipnir? Does she bite anymore?"

"Yes. A stubborn girl, but I'll ream her out of it."

"It's a fine-looking horse. Shame they aren't ours."

It wasn't the first time the subject came up. All the horses belonged to Red Riders, and only if they'd become one, they'd get to choose their own. Not many dared to ride Eredin's selected mare, but they could if they wanted to. The black haired man had become strangely attached to the horse, and he hadn't _exactly_ done his best work training her. It bit. But not him.

"Well, I'm already done with her. Do you need help?" It was more of a polite suggestion, he knew Ge'els didn't. The elf loved his white spotted gelding.

"No, you go. Commander wanted to see you."

Eredin's face darkened. He wasn't on the best side of their chief, and therefor was rarely asked to meet with him. Last time it had happened, was when he'd had an adventure in the stables with a certain doe-eyed female, a pretty she-elf working in the kitchens. They'd scared the horses and he'd got a beating so bad, that he stayed far away from the kitchens a month afterwards. After that, they just figured another place to cuddle.

"Do you know where he is?"

"At the tower."

Right to the devil's mouth. The two snotty favorites didn't realize it, but it was seldom a pleasant place for another than the Aen Saevherne, or the ones in training. It was due to the fact that there was no business for anyone else, the books there weren't open to everyone, even if the knowledge was. Each time he had visited the building, it was for a reason of bad news, mean words or an irritating lecture about subjects that bare very little interest for him. The academy was the city's symbol for arcane understanding, intelligence and superiority, and Eredin respected that. But he wanted to stay the hell out of a place which reminded him of his social status.

He greeted Ge'els farewell as he left the stables.

Eredin encountered the other young military-training elves on his way to the meeting. As they rode back to the city they'd hail him, joke with him and change a word or two. He regularly enjoyed the company of elves his age, and usually he got along with them splendidly. With them, he felt relaxed and in power, as generally everyone treated him with well-earned respect.

A straw haired girl was waiting for him at the tower's entrance. But Avallac'h was nowhere to be seen. Must be a lovers' spat.

"Are you just enjoying hanging here alone or what's this about?"

Lara looked up from the paper she had been studying.

"I saw the commander, heard he was waiting for you."

"Okay, so what?"

"We must do it tonight."

Before he could question her curios set of words, she hurried to continue.

"Return the book. Father's having a meal with some slu-" she restrained herself "company."

He didn't care of her issues with her dad, the young King.

"Can't tonight. Got plans."

"You _promised_."

"I said I'll help you for a price. But not tonight."

She bit her lip. "Then forget it." She moved to leave, walking past him.

"Wait," he seized her arm, "Fine. You make a good bargain. At midnight."

She smiled at him as she pulled herself free. "See you then."

He had, at first, no intentions of helping this privileged she-elf. But it had struck him that it would piss Avallac'h off to no end, as the elf was obsessed with the girl. And he couldn't help loving pissing the little sage off. It was all good fun. He chuckled as he entered the building, probably for a trashing about the horse that still bit.

* * *

 _Any comments are highly recommended! Do you have ideas, suggestions or corrections, I'd love to hear them all!_


End file.
